"The Late Fire at the Barracks.--We understand that Lieutenant Sir Mark
Frayne, of the 310th, has presented Smithson, the gallant young bandsman
of the 205th Fusiliers, with a handsome cheque as a memento of his
prowess daring the catastrophe after the military ball was nearly over.
Smithson, we are glad to say, is convalescent."
Dick's eyes contracted, and he stared hard at Jerry.
"That's the way some folks do it. That's what they call advertising.
Proper way. Never give anything till people's looking on, and if they
won't see, put it in the paper, and then they'll read."
"Open that envelope," said Dick, sharply, and Jerry obeyed, taking out
slowly a sheet of paper, from which fell a cheque.
"Shall I read, sir?" asked Jerry.
"Yes," said Dick, in a more decisive way than he had displayed since the
night of the ball.
"`With Sir Mark Frayne's best wishes to the brave soldier who saved his
life.' Sounds handsome, don't it? `Messrs. Roots and Company, pay
Richard Smithson, or order, Five Pounds.'"
Jerry glanced at Dick, who lay back now, with his eyes closed, looking
very stern.
"It's too much," said Jerry. "Five pound! Fippence is about all his
life's worth?"
"Have you a box of matches?"
"Yes; want a smoke, sir?"
"Light a match."
Jerry obeyed, struck a light, and held the cheque in one hand, the wax
taper in the other.
"Burn it," said Dick, shortly.
"It's fi' pounds, sir; and you may want it."
"Burn it!" cried Dick, sternly.
"Well, it's your own, and you've a right to do as you like with it,"
said Jerry; and the thin scrap of paper was held to the flame, burned
till the man's fingers were in danger, and then fell slowly to the floor
as so much tinder.
"That was your news, then?"
"Not all of it."
"What is it, then?"
Jerry picked up the bunch of flowers, sniffed at it, and set it down
again in the water.
"She's a-coming."
"What?"
"That Miss Deane as sent these is coming in with Mr Lacey this
afternoon."
Dick rose up in his chair, staring excitedly.
"She wanted to come ever so long ago, Mr Lacey said, and now he is
going to bring her. Hadn't you better let me give you a shampoo, sir?"
"Miss Deane coming here with the lieutenant--to this wretched place?"
"Well, she ain't coming to see the place; she's a-coming to see you."
"No, no, Jerry! Go and tell Mr Lacey she mustn't come."
"Likely! Now just look here. You want to keep all about yourself
quiet, and sits upon me when I says go to the colonel and out with it
all, like a man--now don't you?"
"Yes, yes. I'll wait my time," said Dick; and he added, softly, "If I
live."
"And then, as soon as things are a bit different to what you like, back
you goes to the old style, and begins giving your orders. Now just
fancy me going to the guvnor's quarters and saying to him, `Hi! you,
sir, you're not to bring Miss Deane to the horspittle to-day.'
"`Who says so?' says he.
"`Dick Smithson, Esquire.'
"And then he says, `You go and tell Dick Smithson he's a common soldier,
and if he ever dares to send me such a message as that again, I'll
report him to the colonel for insubordination'--that's the word, sir,
`insubordination.' I've picked up a deal since I've been in the army;
and, as we used to learn at school--and precious little it
was!--`positive insolence; comparytive, insubordination: s'perlative
mutiny.'"
"Yes, Jerry, you're right; I forget myself sometimes," sighed Dick.
"Sometimes! Why, you've forgot yourself altogether. Come now, let me
give you a spick up, and make you look a little more like old times.
Now then, just a little shampoo."
"No, no."
"And the scissors put round your 'air a bit. Shave wouldn't hurt you
neither."
"I wish you wouldn't worry me, Jerry."
"I won't worry you; only you can't see a lady as you are, you know--
Don't want to--keep your eyes shut, please--to see you a bit o' dandy,
like Mr Lacey. Feel nice and cool, eh?"
Dick nodded, and suffered Jerry to place his hands on each side of the
basin of water planted upon his knees, so as to keep it steady.
"Nothing like a soft sponge, cold water, and a bit o' scented soap--
those are Mr Lacey's--to comfort you up. Of course, it depends on the
oppyrator. I've seen women soaping little kids and making 'em squirm
and yell, when I've felt as I could ha' washed the poor little things
and made 'em laugh all the time.--This is one of Mr Lacey's towels,
too--he wouldn't mind me bringing 'em. I say, though, you are a deal
better. Fortni't ago you'd have shrunk like if I'd touched you even as
tender as that."
"What's that--pomatum?"
"Pomatum! As if I'd use pomatum to a gent's 'air or a private's either.
No, that's a cream made from a prescription I gave a 'airdresser half a
soverin' for. Violets is nothing to it in the way o' smell. I won't
quite shampoo you to-day, but give you just an extra brush. You want
freshening--that's all--and I don't want you to be tired. Have a
shave?"
"No, no; there's nothing to shave."
"Nothing! call that nothing? Why, I've known gents to go and be shaved
reg'lar with not half your beard. Well, I'll let you off for another
day or two but I must touch up those finger-nails."
Dick made a gesture, but it was all in vain. Almost before he knew it,
Jerry had laid aside towel, brushes, and basin, and begun upon the
nails, which he trimmed with wonderful dexterity, commenting the while
on things in general.
"Look here," he said: "if you want to keep things quiet, you'd better
wear your hands in your pockets. Nobody as knows anything would believe
your name's Smithson, if he sees your hands."
"Why?" said Dick, who felt half-amused.
"'Cause there's so much breed about your nails. `Gift on the finger's
sure to linger; gift on the thumb is sure to come.' Do you know he
calls and sees Miss Deane and her aunt?"
"Mr Lacey?--of course."
"I didn't mean him. Lookers-on see most of the game. Wonder what Mr
Lacey would say if I was to tell him all I know."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, nothing, sir. I dunno what he'd say; but I think I know what he'd
do--scrunch Mr Mark like a walnut in a door-hinge!"
"Look here, I don't want to hear any scandal, Jerry. There, that will
do! I'll give you a shilling as soon as I have one."
"Thank ye; but don't. Keep it saved up for me, till I can say _sir_ to
you proper. When are you going to begin?"
The coming of the hospital attendant with Dick's dinner interrupted the
conversation; and that afternoon, as he sat by the open window, with the
bouquet of flowers before him and a book, there was a rustling of silk
on the stairs--loud, heavy steps, quiet and light steps as well--and
directly after the door was opened, and Lacey, looking proud and happy,
ushered Miss Deane into the room.